It is deceptively sunny this Easter weekend. The wind is sharp, driving in a cold spray from the lake.
Not everyone minds the cold...
...and there are sunny places in which to rest a while among the early violets.
I know, there are beautiful gardens and natural landscapes that are simply covered with flowers like these and more, profusions of snowdrops or daffodils or bluebells, all in their proper season. There used to be woods near here that were starred with masses of trilliums in the spring. In their place now are streets of new houses with neat oblongs of green lawn and small beds or planters of garden centre flowers, and only fragments of the woodlands and wild flowers remain.
Before the bulldozers moved in I took along some plastic bags and a trowel on my morning walks and brought home clumps of bulbs and roots, wild geraniums, and some surprises too. I dug them in and waited for spring, and behold, they rose again!
Happy Easter, everyone.